Laus Deo,—on this rock
(Heaven chiseled squarely good)
Stands His Church—
God is Love and understood
By His flock.
Laus Deo, night starlit
Slumbers not in God's embrace;
Then oh, man!
Like this stone be in thy place;
Stand, not sit.
Cold, silent, stately stone,
Dirge and song and shoutings low,
In thy heart
Dwell serene,—and sorrow? No,
It has none,
Laus Deo!
FEED MY SHEEP.
Shepherd, show me how to go
O'er the hillside steep,
How to gather, how to sow,
How to feed Thy sheep;
I will listen for Thy voice,
Lest my footsteps stray,
I will follow and rejoice
All the rugged way.
Thou wilt bind the stubborn will,
Wound the callous breast,
Make self righteousness be still,
Break earth's stupid rest;
Strangers on a barren shore
Lab'ring long and lone—
We would enter by the door,
And Thou know'st Thine own.
So when day grows dark and cold,
Tear or triumph harms,
Lead Thy lambkins to the fold,
Take them in Thine arms;
Feed the hungry, heal the heart,
Till the morning's beam;
White as wool, ere they depart—
Shepherd, wash them clean.
CHRIST MY REFUGE.
O'er waiting harpstrings of the mind
There sweeps a strain,
Low, sad, and sweet, whose measures bind
The power of pain
And wake a white-winged angel throng
Of thoughts, illumed
By faith, and breathed in raptured song,
With love perfumed.